Escape
by FerrsureeLauren
Summary: Draco feels empty because the past of simple times were gone. Seeing Hermione again makes him remember those times even though she's about to die.


**Oneshot. I don't own Harry Potter. Even though that would be pretty cool. ^__^**

**Enjoy!**

-

__

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Draco Malfoy stood in the center of the room, staring straight ahead, his face blank of emotion.

He wasn't aware of how long he had been standing there alone. Instead, he had been listening to the now familiar tick of the clock in the hallway. However, he had never looked at the clock. There was nothing to keep track of time for, anyway.

There was no window in the room, so he had no idea if it was day or night. There was no furniture, either. He didn't mind, either way. It was as empty as how he felt entirely.

The room wasn't simply an empty chamber - he knew that. It had used to be filled with furniture when he was first placed there. But the room was enchanted to fit the tenors of someone's heart.

Since the room was entrusted to him, the room had fit to things of his feelings.

At first, it had been filled with sofas and even a bed. There were windows everywhere and the walls were painted a royal red. Feelings of arrogance. There were no mirrors. He wondered why. But as time progressed, those things started to fade away. The last window was broken before it dissapeared completely.

His heart felt empty as he began to lose more of himself. The room had nothing left.

Finally, the heavy door creaked. He was familiar to this already. The Dark Lord entered, heavily clad in black robes. Whenever he entered, it was never to have a pleasurable chat with Draco, however.

He always carried the next victim to die. This time, the Dark Lord had a boy behind him, who looked simply too exhausted to fight any longer. Draco realized it was none other than Viktor Krum.

He looked horrible - he was bleeding all over. His clothes were ripped in several places. The Dark Lord held him by the collar of his shirt. Ungraciously, he tossed Krum at Draco's feet and departed without even a nod.

Krum took a gust full of air as if he had been holding his breath in long. Draco looked down at him in disgust.

In most cases, Draco never had to do anything to the victim. He only had to watch over the victims until the day they were sentenced to their death.

"Well?" Krum spat, crawling into a sitting position but refusing to stand. "What's going to happen to me?"

Draco stared at him, his face expressionless. "You're going to die."

"But I didn't help Potter! I don't know where he is!" Krum yelled, flailing his arms.

Draco had already figured that Krum didn't know anything. That's how most of the victims were. "You're going to die anyway."

Krum glared up at the pale, pointed face, measuring his empty voice. "I remember you. You were that Hogwarts boy I sat next to a few years ago."

Draco didn't answer. He hated being reminded of the past. Hogwarts reminded him of his friends. Of his family. Of memories that should never have existed.

For the next few hours, Krum didn't try striking up a conversation. Neither did Draco. Hooded figures came in the room twice, dragging Krum out and tossing him back in the room after his interrogation from the Death Eaters.

Krum became more and more shaken with every interrogation that passed.

Draco knew it was Krum's time to die for time that seemed about a day later when two hooded figures appeared in the chamber.

One looked at Draco while the other hoisted Krum up by his forearms. "It's time." The hooded figure looking at him had said.

He nodded, not looking at Krum.

He never helped any of the victims.

The second figure glanced at Draco over his shoulder before leaving. "Want to watch?"

Draco shook his head once and the heavy door swung closed behind them.

"Bye, Krum." Draco breathed to the empty room. Draco wanted something. Needed something.

He wanted escape.

-

__

Tick, tock, tick.

Draco had fallen asleep in the corner by the time the door had swung open. It had seemed less than a few hours since Krum had left.

The Dark Lord stood in the doorway, turning his head slowly to look at Draco. Draco stood up, trying to shake off his grogginess to look without interest at the next victim.

She was a mess.

She looked different since the last time he had seen her. Her clothes were in tatters, and her eyes were bloodshot. Her face was twisted and red - it looked like she had been hit recently.

She wasn't weak like the other victims. In fact, she was still struggling silently, her teeth gritted. The Dark Lord held her by the top of her arm. He tossed her over the threshold and closed the door behind him.

It was quiet for a moment.

Then she stood up, her teeth bared, she glared in his direction.

He had expected the usual questions. Just like Krum, he expected: "Well? What's going to happen to me?" Or, "Please, let me go." And the usual, "Help me."

But she said none of those things. Instead, she said, "If you don't release me, I'm going to kill you, Malfoy."

Draco was taken aback. Nobody had said his name for a long time. It was almost strange to hear it coming from someone whom he used to hate so much. From _her _lips, the girl who used to be his main problem... in the past.

He didn't retrieve his wand from his robes. "You have no weapon."

She squared her shoulders and staggered over to him, limping like every move hurt her.

"I don't need a weapon to kill you." She said.

Draco didn't move. She stopped a few feet away from him. She stared at him coldly, waiting for him to say something. He was thoughtful, however.

"Kill me." He said simply.

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Kill me," He repeated, his voice louder. "You were eager to do it a second ago."

"What, you want to die?" She snapped, curling her hands into fists and leaning forward. Draco's lips twitch. She used to do that years ago whenever talking to him.

He didn't answer her.

Instead, he studied her face as she looked away from him, her eyes roaming around the chamber.

Many years ago, he could faintly recall the animosity he felt towards her. He had always the compelling need to drive her crazy or get her booted out of Hogwarts. In lack of a better word, he hated her.

He wondered why something felt suddenly off.

He was even surprised as he watched her step forward, her eyes burning a hole into his. She reached a hand up and slapped him.

Surprisingly, he felt nothing. He had missed the impact and the pain she was meaning to inflict. But something bubbled to the surface.

It was anger. He hasn't felt anything close to emotion in so long. He felt it burning in his veins, felt it beating into his chest.

He snatched her wrist and shoved her violently, making her fall on her back. "Don't touch me, you filthy little Mudblood."

She looked up at him, breathing heavily. "Malfoy, you are the slimiest, worst, most disgusting creature in the world."

"You really do remember my name." It wasn't a question.

"I will always remember your name. I'll always remember what you did-" She broke off and stood up slowly.

He studied her face again. She stared up at him, her eyes watering.

She started to cry.

He suddenly felt like he didn't belong here. The anger was melting away fast, the only piece of him he had before.

A small mirror appeared to the far right. He merely glanced at it, but tore his attention to her, who was now on her knees, her palms pressed to the ground, hiding her face.

He tried finding the old love of seeing the filthy Mudblood in pain, but he still felt empty. There was no fire or drive to see her in pain anymore.

"Go to sleep," He muttered. "You look pathetic. At least pull yourself together."

"I'm not going to sleep." She replied stiffly.

He swayed on the spot. "Whatever." He strode to the other side of the room and sat down, watching her.

She stared back at him for a few moments, deciding that she wouldn't let him win. She remained standing, wiping her eyes frequently.

His face felt odd.

"Stop smiling. Why are you smiling?" She hissed.

"It's been a while since I've seen you. You remind me of the past. When things were simple." He admitted. He looked at the ground while he said this.

"Simple? Hah. Easy for you to say when you're one of the evil people on top of things." She growled back.

"It really isn't easy, Granger..."

They were silent for a while. She finally sat down in the center of the room. She looked like she was in pain. She had stopped crying, at least.

"It's so quiet." She said softly.

"It's like this all the time. People come... and go." He didn't look at her. He wasn't sure how he'd feel when the last piece of the past was gone.

"If I was a pureblood, would you still hate me?" She asked so quietly he barely heard her. He opened his mouth to retort, but her eyes met his.

They raised questions in himself that he never asked. _What really made me hate her besides that?_

"Yes, I would." He replied anyway, chortling.

She didn't answer. He was about to fall asleep when he noticed she was still watching him with eyes that knew too much.

He suddenly remembered several years back, seeing that bushy haired, buck-toothed girl for the first time. He hadn't hated her instantly. He only hated her when he spotted her with Neville, already judging her with the looneys she hung out with.

He tried picturing seeing her for the first time, alone. No, he hadn't judged her. Maybe not on the attractive side, however. She had grown up, however, that much he couldn't deny.

He thought idly of what names meant anyway.

-

Soon after, she had fallen asleep, curled on the floor facing him across the room. Watching her sleep, another piece of furniture had appeared in the room - a small clock.

Not caring about the new additions to the room because of his emotions, he stood and sat next to her. She was shivering slightly in her sleep.

The room was always cold. Just like his heart. Her hair fell into her face. Angrily, he reached out and brushed it back.

She had woken up at his touch, and she was looking at him groggily. His face twisted natrually into a brutal snarl. She smiled weakly. At that moment, he knew they were both surrendering. There was no point in fighting anymore.

Carefully, he repositioned himself about a foot away from her and lay down, staring into her eyes. He had a reason for doing all of this.

It was then when he was finally willing to reopen sealed scars. Memories came flooding back to him. His first opinion of Hogwarts, his nasty comment to Goyle when the Mudblood was assigned to Gryffindor.

Things felt so innocent back then. He remembered the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, hoping that she would be attacked first. He felt no more anger there.

How the sun felt on his back during the springtime at Hogwarts, how cold the snow felt in Hogsmeade. Memories that he promised he'd never look back at.

She smiled once more and he began to wonder if she was going through the same memories. Huh. Maybe.

-

He woke up alone. He looked around, alarmed, and sat up. Checking quickly, he noted with relief that his wand was still with him. She was gone, however.

He was dazed only for a few moments until Hermione was thrown back into the room, gasping. Her eyes were wet.

Her interrogation looked as if it had gone as pleasantly as the others had. Her whole body was shaking. Even though, oddly, Draco felt as if the room was a little warmer.

She looked at him, on her hands and knees. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She seemed to understand. She crawled until she curled herself next to him. Stiffly, he put his hand over he shoulders.

As odd as it felt, it felt so natural for him to do. At this touch, the room seemed to warm even more. A sofa appeared in the corner. They never went to it.

She looked exhausted. Smiling faintly, he laid her gently on her side, where she stayed with her eyes open.

He laid down next to her and put his hand over her waist, pressing his forehead to hers. He looked into her eyes again.

The smell of Hogwarts at breakfast. The dragons in the Triwizard cup. The Yule Ball. How he remembered her there.

Womanly and Krum's date. For one wild moment, he almost saw what Krum saw in her at all in the first place.

The struggle of his mission to kill Dumbledore. How darker the world seemed to start to get from there. Desperate, he recalled the touch of Pansy's hand on his forehead, the hands in his hair. Pansy's hand in his while they danced at the Yule Ball.

So many memories.

In the room, it seemed as if more mirrors were appearing everywhere, larger than the first. He didn't look at them, though.

They were suddenly on a soft carpet that felt like water. There was no more ceiling. The sun bore down on them, lighting her face.

He moved his free hand, inching it forward. She caught his movement, and she moved hers forward too. Their hands twisted together.

Her hand felt so soft.

-

Her time was almost up. There had been one last interrogation, where she came back tearless, but shaken.

She seemed to have sensed that there was nothing else for her purpose there. She knew she was going to die. He knew it too. The room started to grow bare in the absence of her interrogation.

She noticed, but said nothing. Instead, after she stepped in the room, she hurled herself into his arms. The room seemed to reassemble itself.

So did he.

He felt suddenly weak. The floor of the room had melted away, replaced by cystal clear water. The ceiling was gone, lit by a star-filled midnight.

The walls glittered with crystal.

Unsure of what his heart was doing, he released her. They were waist-deep in the water. She looked up at him for what he knew was probably their last time.

He didn't see the memories of Hogwarts or the easier past anymore. He was puzzled for a moment. He only saw her.

How her face glowed in the crystal-lit night. How her tears glittered as they fell down her cheek. Her smile, weak, but still there.

He never noticed how her teeth had changed before.

He held her shoulders.

He couldn't understand any of it. None of the memories came back to him. He still saw her. Her eyes were steady on his, and he wondered if she was curious about the same thing.

"Stop crying," He hissed. She didn't reply. "Stop, stop..." He looked over to the crystal-embedded walls. The mirrors didn't reflect them. It reflected different memories of his own.

The biggest mirror of all, reflected the two of them back.

Her tears were still coming. He reached up and brushed them off with his thumb, clenching his jaw. He measured her expression.

"Hermione..."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

His lips were in no way gentle. He was hungry, now. She seemed to be feeling the same way. He bit her bottom lip so fiercely that her lip bled. She licked away the saltiness on her lip and continued kissing him.

They explored each other's mouths. His hands were tight around her, and her hands were digging into his chest. He moved his hands into her hair, forcing her tighter to him.

This was escape. He was sure of it. He felt the submission and wanting flooding through his veins, pounding a beat into his heart. The room reflected how he felt, the mirrors no longer holding memories. It showed the two of them now.

His only escape. He could feel his heart beating into her chest. Or it could have been her's.

Her's, his. Did it make a difference?

He trailed kisses down her neck while she clung to him as if for dear life. He returned to her lips, just as eager as she was.

-

They were standing on solid ground again. Her time was up. They could hear the footsteps in the hallway. He was holding her by her waist, she had her arms around his neck.

He kissed her softly once and brushed his nose along her jawline. He didn't want to lose this. The footsteps were just outside of the door.

He let her go.

They came noisily. The hooded figures were cackling coldly, grabbing her by her wrists. Draco was leaning against the far wall, silent.

Not even looking at Draco, one of the hooded figures asked the usual, "Going to watch?"

He didn't answer them. She was almost out of the room with them when she looked back over her shoulder at him, her eyes pleading.

The door closed.

He stepped forward until he was at the door. He stepped over the threshold and watched them take her down the hallway. He followed them.

He knew exactly where they were going. They arrived to the room of all glass. It was pouring outside. It was the first time he had ever glimpsed outside in a while.

The Dark Lord was there. They positioned Hermione in the center of the room. She was the only one who noticed Draco was watching.

"You will not tell us of Potter's whereabouts?" The Dark Lord asked in a high, cruel voice. She shook her head.

Draco turned away.

"You do not know where he is?"

He didn't hear her reply. He was running, down the hallway and back into his chamber.

A window had appeared. But it was broken.

All of the mirrors around him were broken. Pieces of them littered the floor. The clock was still there.

_Tick, tock._

_-_

She stood with her head held high. She wanted to die with dignity. That much nobody could have taken from her. She didn't try to move from her spot. It was useless.

The two hooded figures had their wands raised, pointing at her.

"Wait," Voldemort breathed. She froze, holding her breath. Voldemort laughed once without humor. "I'm not going to spare you. I want to kill you myself."

Voldemort raised his wand.

_Crash!_

It didn't come from the same room. Someone was screaming in the hallway. She started to shake. What was going on?

The two hooded figures vanished down the hallway. Voldemort, ignoring her, walking into the hallway swiftly after them. He seemed to know that she wouldn't escape, anyway.

He was right. There was nowhere for her to go.

She looked up at the high domed ceiling, staring at the clouds.

Draco was in the room. He had stepped out of the shadows of the hallway. He approached her, wordlessly holding her by her hand.

They took off back into the hallway. She felt her spirits raise. Nobody was in the hallway. They must have gone into another room. However, Draco and Hermione entered the Room of Emotion.

The room was completely empty, now except for a single door now placed at the center of the room. It was an odd thing, she could see the back of it. It just stood there, unsupported by anything except air.

She looked at him.

He was smiling faintly.

-

"No." She said softly.

He didn't listen. He held her by her waist and led her until she was right in front of the door.

"You have to," He whispered. "I want to know at least that you managed to... escape." He smiled weakly again, as if enjoying some inside joke.

"You have to come with me, then!" She pleaded, twisting away so she could face him. But he already knew she knew the real answer.

He couldn't come with her, of course. The door was only for her. The Room of Emotion was his heart. He couldn't run away inside it. That was the Room of Requirement's job.

She had served him as part of his heart, though. She had been his escape. The door would most likely take her someplace safe.

The footsteps were in the hallway. He handed his wand to her.

"You have to run away, too. They'll kill you." She said even softer.

He didn't respond. She hugged him once, and he put one arm around her before letting her go for the last time.

She dissapeared inside the door.

The door vanished.

The room was completely bare now. There was nothing besides the clock on the wall across from him. He looked at it curiously. He sat down.

The clock was going backwards. He nearly smiled. The footsteps came to a halt outside of the chamber. He smiled.

The door burst open behind him, and he felt their eyes boring into his back. There were more than three people. He knew probably all of the Death Eaters were filing in now, one by one, their faces mangled.

The Death Eaters surrounded him, wearing nasty expressions. Draco looked up at the Dark Lord in front of him.

The Dark Lord raised his wand. Draco closed his eyes.

_Tick._

* * *

**:0**

**Summary: The Room of Emotion fits to things of his heart, in other words. :P Mirrors reflected the past. Some reflected them back. Draco wanted her for the past so he could remember how easy things used to be. But he ended up liking her. (Aww xD)**

**He helped her escape in the end, obviously. He distracted the Death Eaters and Voldemort so he could go get her. Hermione had a happy ending in a way. A door appeared for her because to him, she was his escape. So the Room of Emotion fit to that. Oh, and the mirrors were broken, because he felt that the past was going to dissapear along with Hermione. **

**Yeah, Draco doesn't make it in the end. Fjkdlsjlkk;; sorry! **

**Revieww please**


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